


I'm Still Here

by enc0432



Series: Band of Gallavich [4]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Child Abuse, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Period-Typical Racism, Racist Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-02
Updated: 2014-09-02
Packaged: 2018-02-15 22:11:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2245137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enc0432/pseuds/enc0432
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey visits Terry's grave for the first time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Still Here

**Author's Note:**

> Going into Mickey's childhood so depictions of child abuse.

_And you see the things they never see_  
 _All you wanted, I could be_  
 _Now you know me, and I'm not afraid_  
 _And I wanna tell you who I am_  
 _Can you help me be a man?_  
 _They can't break me_  
 _As long as I know who I am_ -I’m Still Here, John Rzeznik 

January 10, 1946. Chicago, Illinois 

Mickey was alone in the cemetery, hands buried in the pockets of his coat, shoulders hunched against the bitter cold. Staring at the grave of his father and trying to muster up some emotion. Wasn’t that what people were supposed to do when their dads die? All he felt was the cold. There was nothing left of the man under his feet but bitter memories and the relief felt by his children. 

_Here lies Terence L. Milkovich, beloved father and husband._

The second half of the epitaph was laughable. Terry had been nothing but a source of fear for Mickey and his siblings, using hate and pain to turn them into bitter echoes of himself. To the point where going to war had been the highlight of Mickey’s life. _Well, meeting Gallagher._ He chewed his lip, the memories coming unbidden. 

~~

_He was ten. He was ten and his mother was dead. He held Mandy’s hand during the funeral needing the contact. His father’s eyes were on him. So were Alans’. Mickey didn’t really notice though. Didn’t really notice anything but the yawning hole inside of his chest as they lowered his mother into the ground. It was Iggy who grabbed the back of his shoulders, two years older but already so much taller. Trying to stop the tears for Mickey’s sake.That was the last time Mickey cried in front of his family. He shuddered under his older brother’s hands. When they got home Terry got drunk and whipped Mickey with his belt for being weak. When Mickey begged Al to help he just turned away. Terry lay into him until his arm was tired and Mickey threw up in his bed before crying himself to sleep in silence._

_~~_

Mickey blinked when he heard the crunch of snow. Ian, limping along just to check on him. Ian with the shaky hands and the bad leg, struggling through the snow just to make sure Mickey was alright. _I told you to stay in the truck asshole._ He didn’t protest though when Ian finally reached him, nose and cheeks red with the cole and exertion. He wrapped an arm around Mickey, mindful they were the only two idiots in Chicago out on a day like today. 

“So you make up your mind if you’re going to piss on it yet?” 

Mickey snorted, hearing Ian’s teeth chattering. “Come on Firecrotch. It hurts just lookin’ at you.” 

“I’m good. D-don’t leave c-cause of me.” 

“Let’s just go home. Storm’s coming in.” 

Ian nodded gratefully and Mickey rolled his eyes, helping support the redhead through the snow.  Once back in the truck Mickey drove absently, lost in his memories again. 

~~

_He was thirteen and had made twin mistakes of thinking he was alone, and singing._

_“Someday when I'm awfully low. When the world is cold, I will feel a glow. Just thinking of you._ _And the way you look tonight._ ” 

_“Who’s singing that nigger music in my house!”_

_Fear coursed through Mickey’s veins. His father had come home early. He came storming into Mickey’s room. His father was huge, but Mickey was small and agile. He ran around his father and into the summer heat. He heard something crash behind him, later finding Terry had thrown the radio at his head, shattering it against the wall instead. He ran and ran, not knowing where he was going. He found himself in front of the house his father had forbidden him to go near, the house where the white man had married the black lady. He saw them, kissing on the porch, and he went into shock. They weren’t even pretending to be ashamed. He had never seen two people act so lovingly towards each other, and he had no idea what to make of it. He froze._

_Then it got more interesting. “Lip that’s mine! Give it back!”_

_Two boys around his own age came tearing out of the house, tackling each other into the yard. Fighting over a football. The man broke off from kissing his wife to yell at them, the one with the flaming red hair looked up and spied Mickey watching the from across the street. Mickey spooked and ran off, feeling ashamed at the attraction curling in his belly. His father didn’t need more reasons to hate him._

~~

“Mick you alright? You’re quiet even for you.” 

Mickey blinked, realizing he had been staring out of the window. He cleared his throat. 

“Yeah. M’good.” 

“You sure?” 

He nodded. He was too. He and Ian had been snowed in together. Ian had been reading, the radio playing along softly in the background. The fire crackled, the light making Ian’s eyes dance. 

“Oh but, you're lovely, with your smile so warm. And your cheeks so soft. There is nothing for me but to love you. Just the way you look tonight. With each word your tenderness grows, tearing my fear apart, and that laugh, that wrinkles your nose..touches my foolish heart.”

Mickey turned away from the window to look over the redhead, stretched over the sofa like he owned it. He had shadows under his eyes from the night before, the scars on his cheek dark against his pale skin. He was staring at Mickey over the top of the book, smiling with understanding. That was just it too, Ian knew. He was the unwanted son in his family. How that was even possible Mickey would never understand. It was more than that though, Ian had seen him at his best and worst, even knew some of the shit Terry had put him through growing up, and he still looked at Mickey like was _something_. Something worth looking at. Something worth saving. He smiled back. 

“Hey Gallagher I think there’s a blanket in front of the fire with our name on it.” 

Ian snapped his book closed and got to his feet, limping over with steely determination. Mickey wiggled his eyebrows and leaned back as Ian ran his hands over his shoulders. He dug his fingers in, rubbing away the tension out that Mickey hadn’t realized was there. Mickey rested the back of his head on Ian’s stomach, looking up at him. Ian smiled, he knew damned well what he was doing. Mickey gave up and closed his eyes, not resisting when Ian wrapped his arms around him. 

~~

_He was 17 and crowded around the radio with his family._

_“Yesterday, Dec. 7, 1941 - a date which will live in infamy - the United States of America was suddenly and deliberately attacked by naval and air forces of the Empire of Japan.”_

_For once, every Milkovich was quiet, even Terry. They listened to Roosevelt raptly, the house dead but for the sound of the president’s voice. Mickey chewed his lip, listening for the part he wanted to hear the most. It came at the end._

_“With confidence in our armed forces - with the unbounding determination of our people - we will gain the inevitable triumph - so help us God. I ask that the Congress declare that since the unprovoked and dastardly attack by Japan on Sunday, Dec. 7, a state of war has existed between the United States and the Japanese empire.”_  

_As soon as the last words dropped Terry and his brothers started arguing about the war and ranting about how the Japanese would be licked within months. Mickey looked at Mandy though, the two of them quiet. Because they both knew then that nothing was going to be the same again. The Milkovich boys were going to war._

~~

Mickey lay awake, Ian passed out on his chest. Mickey stroked his back and arm absently, feeling him breathe. He could feel Ian’s heart, strong under his hand, and he was happy. Because he could remember the year before, laying awake in a hospital bed, not knowing where Ian was or if he was safe. The difference the ensuing year had made still blew his mind. Ian mumbled something his sleep, calling Mickey back to the present. He smiled into Ian’s hair and adjusted his arms so that they wrapped around the redhead, then closed his eyes.   

**Author's Note:**

> The song Mickey was singing and that was on the radio is Billie Holiday's version of The Way You Look Tonight. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=De_xthmIUO8


End file.
